The Two Jars

[sdi]

δοιοὶ γάρ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει
δώρων οἷα δίδωσι κακῶν, ἕτερος δὲ ἑάων:
ᾧ μέν κ' ἀμμίξας δώῃ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος,
ἄλλοτε μέν τε κακῷ ὅ γε κύρεται, ἄλλοτε δ' ἐσθλῷ:
ᾧ δέ κε τῶν λυγρῶν δώῃ, λωβητὸν ἔθηκε,
καί ἑ κακὴ βούβρωστις ἐπὶ χθόνα δῖαν ἐλαύνει,
φοιτᾷ δ' οὔτε θεοῖσι τετιμένος οὔτε βροτοῖσιν.

For two jars sit on the floor of Zeus's house,
one full of curses, the other blessings.
To the man Thunder-Loving Zeus gives of them mixed,
his luck changes with the times—here good, there bad;
but to the man he gives only of the bad, abuse is his lot:
evil misery harries him over the divine earth,
and he wanders respected by neither gods nor men.

(Akhilles speaking. Homer, Iliad XXIV 527–33, as translated—hopefully not too badly!—by yours truly.)

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But Zeus never gives of his jars unmixed—if it seems so, it is only because of the temporal mist on our eyes; so if there is only trauma here, there must be some recompense for it, either in the past or in the future; so either karma is your fate, or blessings are your destiny. The inability to see this is, I presume, why Akhilles's shade sat in Hades, still bemoaning his lot long after.